


Perspective

by Anonymous



Series: Is this thing (an)on? [7]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alien Technology, Angst, Bodyswap, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 05:13:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17277710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Written for the prompt:Peter/Tony, bodyswapOriginally prompted and postedhere.





	Perspective

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Перспектива](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17812016) by [8salfeti8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/8salfeti8/pseuds/8salfeti8), [STARKER_Russian_fandom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/STARKER_Russian_fandom/pseuds/STARKER_Russian_fandom)



“Oh my god, I sound like a chipmunk.” Peter’s hands fly up to press his fingers over his lips, eyes wide.

“Hey! Take that back.”

Several problems immediately begin vying for Tony’s attention, not the least of which is that his security clearance has just been downgraded to teenaged-mutant-spider-kid levels.

“Peter, listen carefully, I need you to - ”

“Technically, I think you should be calling me Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark.”

Tony glowers, at least as much as he’s able to with his currently baby-faced visage. This is already starting to get old.

Peter spreads his hands, palms facing out. “Okay, fine. What is it you need me to do?”

“Repeat after me - FRIDAY, enact protocol 3-9-5.”

“FRIDAY, enact protocol 3-9-5,” Peter parrots back, in Tony’s voice.

“Are you sure, Boss?” FRIDAY asks.

Tony nods at Peter, who seems to startle, seeming to have already forgotten he’s the one that has to reply.

“Uh, yeah I’m sure.”

“Confirmation code ‘Expo’,” Tony supplies.

Peter hesitates but repeats the words, biting his lip a little as he waits for FRIDAY to confirm, which she does.

“FRIDAY?” Tony asks.

“Authentication required.”

He closes his eyes, thunks his head against the wall behind him. “Underoos,” he mutters.

“Full access granted. Welcome, Peter Parker. Would you like to - ”

“Perfect,” Tony replies, cutting her off. “You can skip the slideshow, FRIDAY, I already know the drill.”

Peter’s brow furrows - or rather, _Tony’s_ brow furrows.

“What was all that about?” Peter asks in a whisper, as if FRIDAY couldn’t hear that just as well as anything else.

“I just granted myself full security access. Well, technically I granted them to you, but that’s effectively me right now. Don’t get too excited,” he interjects when he sees the way Peter’s widen, “I’m setting your clearance levels back to normal as soon as we get this little pratfall comedy shtick over with.”

“Wait, does that mean that for now I have - ”

“No. Your clearance - I mean, my clearance - has been deactivated. We’ll fix it later. For now, this was the easiest way to get the access I needed.”

“Why do you even have a protocol like that in the first place?”

Tony pushes himself up from where he’s sitting on the floor - no idea why Peter was down here in the first place, honestly what the hell, kid. There was a perfectly serviceable lab stool not two feet away.

“You don’t think we have bigger problems to deal with right now?” Tony asks.

“Yeah. Sorry, I was just wondering.”

It’s odd to see Peter’s gestures borne out on Tony’s own frame; the way he crosses and uncrosses his arms, fidgeting nervously. Tony moves to take a step forward, heading back over to the monitors so he can check the weird readings they’d been studying, when he’s pulled up short.

His hand is stuck to the wall. He thinks “ _unstick_ ” as hard has he can, but it has no apparent effect. He’s pretty sure if he tugs any harder he’ll end up yanking a chunk out of the wall.

“Uh, kid?”

“Hm?”

“Little help?”

Peter frowns at him for a moment before noticing the issue. “Oh!”

“How do you usually control this kind of thing?”

“I don’t usually think about it, to be honest. It just kind of happens when I want it to, like blinking if your eyes are itchy, or… I don’t know, swinging your arms when you walk.”

“That’s not super helpful.”

“Okay okay, umm. Try just moving your hand like you expect it not to be stuck. I had to do a lot of that kind of thing when I first started.”

Tony takes a deep breath, then ever so slowly he’s able to peel his hand away from the wall.

When he’s done, he looks down at his hands - at Peter’s long fingers, nails bitten short. It occurs to Tony he only met Peter after the kid already had a good six months of practice under his belt.

“On a scale of one to ten, how hard was it to get a handle on this stuff?”

“Eleven.”

“Fantastic.”

“Yeah. So, you might want to be careful about not holding things too hard, like a glass or a doorknob.” Peter actually starts counting things off on his fingers. “Or um, throwing things. I threw my pillow at the wall once and it kinda exploded. And left a dent in the wall, which, I didn’t think a pillow could do that? You’re also gonna want to avoid places with a lot of noise, or people, or um, smells, for a while.”

“Perfect, ‘cause that’ll be super easy to do, living in Manhattan.”

Peter just shrugs in response. Tony figures dealing with this stuff as a kid in a tiny Forest Hills apartment probably wasn’t a cakewalk either. At least Tony has the advantage of a well-soundproofed penthouse to hide out in while he copes.

Although, speaking of smells… the lab itself is a little bit naseauting. There’s a dizzying miasma of chemical smells, overlaid with the particularly acrid scent of burning metal.

“Does the lab always smell like this to you?”

“Um.” Peter stops to sniff the air. “Probably. Right now it just smells like floor cleaner and metal, but usually it’s kind of, I don’t know, industrial-smelling.”

“How about we move this upstairs?”

Upstairs is better. Much better.

They set up on the couch, Tony pulling displays up from the coffee table. As far as either of them can remember, they’d been running a scan on a weird piece of alien tech that had been uncovered in Utah just last week.

“Maybe if we run the same scan again, it’ll switch us back,” Peter suggests.

“Or it switches us into two random strangers and we’re even more screwed.”

“Maybe, but I think proximity matters, otherwise why did it switch just the two of us?”

“It’s a decent theory, but I don’t want to mess with that thing again until we know a little more. Wait here a sec.”

He heads into his office - a room he rarely uses, if he’s honest. But there’s a safe hidden away in there, and inside the safe is a very particular Asgardian thingamajig that he needs.

It feels a little ridiculous, talking to what looks like a shiny rock, but Thor had sworn to him it worked pretty much like an intergalactic cell phone. He explains the situation as best he can, certain that he sounds like an idiot, and then tucks the shining rock into Peter’s jeans pocket, not entirely sure of what to do next.

It’s not until then that he notices there’s something else folded up inside the pocket.  The kid’s mask.

Well, now there’s a terrible idea.

“Hey Pete, you got the rest of your suit with you?”

“Mr. Stark, you probably shouldn’t - wait, hold on - does this mean I get to wear the Iron Man suit?!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Aw, come on! I just want to fly around a little, I promise not to blow anything up.”

And that right there seals it.

As much as Tony might be itching to try a little webslinging for himself, it occurs to him that he’s directly responsible for Peter’s body now. And vice versa for Tony’s body. No way he’s letting the kid fly around in his skin.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Peter, he does. But Peter’s had years now to adapt to being superhuman - he assesses the physical risks of a situation differently than a normal person would. It’s probably not something he can unlearn in a couple of hours, whether he’s in Tony’s body or not.

And besides, Peter is yawning again. Tony hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Or the night before, for that matter.

“Let’s sleep on it, start tomorrow with fresh eyes.”

*

Tony strips down to Peter’s boxers and t-shirt and climbs into bed. He isn’t expecting to fall asleep right away, but something about teenage hormones or maybe just the stress of the day pulls him under.

He also doesn’t anticipate waking up hard the next morning.

Tony groans into the sheets. The bed smells amazing, feels amazing against his skin - he shifts his legs just to appreciate the softness. He doesn’t remember ordering new sheets recently, but who knows. He doesn’t always track the household stuff all that closely. He also doesn’t always make it back to his actual bed at night, so it’s possible he just doesn’t remember how comfortable it is.

He shoves a hand down between his legs, inside his boxers - since when did he sleep in cotton boxers, anyway? But he doesn’t spend much time worrying about it, because his hand on his dick feels fucking amazing. That combined with the silken sheets and the barest hint of cologne overwhelms him quickly; too quickly.

Damn, he hasn’t come like that since he was -

Oh no.

No no no no.

Tony gingerly pulls his hand out of his boxers. _Peter’s_ boxers. Because that was Peter’s dick he just jerked off.

He rolls upright to sit on the side of the bed, head hanging down between his shoulders. It’s a normal bodily function, he reasons. No reason the kid ever needs to know. And besides, he has to piss at some point, it’s not like he could’ve completely avoided touching the kid’s junk anyway.

Peter’s probably doing the same thing in Tony’s body right about now -

Which is not a helpful thought.

He decides to chalk it up to just another part of being on the team - weird shit happens. Like the time Clint temporarily gained the ability to read everyone’s minds, or when Natasha had been cursed to only talk in riddles (...also temporarily. Thank god.)

He goes to the bathroom, washes his hands and his face. After a moment, decides he should probably take a shower. When he gets out he pulls on a pair of his own boxers, hoping Peter won’t mind (or question) the change. Peter’s boxers get shoved down to the very bottom of the laundry basket.

He pulls on yesterday’s jeans, but eschews Peter’s t-shirt in favor of one of his own. It’s a little loose on him, but maybe not as loose as he would expect.Tony feels pretty good, all things considered. Well rested. Refreshed. And also incredibly hungry.

He grabs another shirt for Peter, then reconsiders and grabs a full outfit. He’s not sure what Peter had brought with him yesterday, or what he might have clean in his room, but either way it probably wasn’t going to fit Tony’s body very well.

He finds Peter sitting at the kitchen counter, head resting on on elbow, munching is way through a bowl of cereal. He’s wearing yesterday’s pants, but a fresh t-shirt which is definitely stretched too tight across the shoulders.

“Sleep okay?”

Peter nods slowly. “I’ve never actually been hungover, but I think this is what people say it feels like.”

“Probably caffeine withdrawal. Welcome to wonderful world of being over 40 and not having the metabolism of a seventeen year old anymore.”

“I’m eighteen.”

Tony knows. He knows it a little too well, if he’s honest.

“Not right now, you’re not.”

He makes himself a cup of coffee, along with another one for the kid. Peter seems to perk up a little after a few sips. Tony finishes off his own mug and goes for a second.

It’s at that moment the private elevator slides open and they both freeze.

“Tony, what the hell?!” Pepper says as she walks into the room.

Peter is still frozen in place, looking every bit like he wants to slide under the kitchen counter to hide.

“I sent something over for your signature an hour ago, and I get a message back from FRIDAY to forward all communications to Peter Parker? I don’t know if this is some kind of joke, or if you actually think you can pass your _extremely minimal_ remaining company obligations off on your eighteen-year old intern, but this is completely - ” it’s then that she seems to notice Tony is in the room. Her tone completely changes. “Oh hi, Peter. Happy’s downstairs, if you need a ride to school this morning.”

“Nope,” Tony answers instantly. There’s not a chance in hell he’s spending the day in high school, of all places.

Peter darts a look over in Tony’s direction. “I sent May a text this morning, asking her to call me in sick.”

“Tony, seriously? Since when do you need May Parker to call out sick for you?”

“Uhh, hi. I don’t, but Peter does,” Tony tries to explain. Poorly. He stars talking fast, because Pepper looks about ready to tear her hair out and then strangle them both with it. “Listen, long story short, that’s Peter. I’m Tony. It’s one of those weird alien tech things, don’t worry about it.”

Peter waves at her awkwardly. “Hi Ms. Potts,” he says.

“Are you serious right n- ” she looks back and forth between Peter and Tony, doesn’t seem to know which one of them to ask. “”Oh my god, you’re serious, aren’t you?

“Believe me, I wish I wasn’t.”

She starts to nod slowly, then keeps going, like once she’s started she can’t manage to stop.

“Okay. Okay.” Pepper takes a breath. “I have a pretty important corporate merger I’m supposed to be finalizing today. So, I’m going to go do that. Whichever one of you is Tony, you’re going to sign the thing I sent you, and then you’re going to figure out - whatever this is.”

“Yep, absolutely. We’ve got this, Pep, don’t worry about it. Go do your thing.”

Pepper looks between the two of them one last time, then shakes her head and gets back on the elevator. The doors close. Peter lets out a breath.

Tony claps his hands together. “All in all, I think that went pretty well.”

*

Tony keeps meaning to work out the time differential between Asgard and Earth, but he keeps forgetting. He remembers it now only because Thor must have replied at some point during the night, the strange little rock flashing red - not unlike the light on an old-school answering machine.

Tony shakes the thing, taps it, holds it up to his ear, cursing the Asgardian aversion to providing clear instructions. He orders the thing to talk to him, which is apparently all it takes.

“I have heard tale of the device you describe,” Thor’s message says. “I believe it is of Kree origin, used long ago to transfer the consciousness from a powerful but aging Kree to a younger, healthier body. If the new body proved suitable, the older vessel would be destroyed, along with the consciousness within. The good news is that unless one of the bodies was destroyed, the transfer was said to be temporary.”

Tony breathes a sigh of relief.

Temporary could mean anything from days to weeks, of course, but at least they had some idea what they were dealing with. He carries the communication stone out to the living and plays the message for Peter, who frowns as he listens.

“That’s awful,” he says.

“Look at it this way, now that we have it, it won’t be used to murder teenaged aliens ever again. Okay? Plus, bright side - we both get to switch back to our own bodies at some point.”

“Yeah, that part’s awesome.”

Peter ducks his head, and it takes a moment for Tony to realize he’s blushing. He wonders - and not for the first time, if Peter had taken the opportunity to appreciate Tony’s own body the same way Tony had done with Peter’s. That blush just about confirms it.

There’s no way for them to talk about it without… actually talking about it. Tony leaves the subject alone. It’s not exactly like he can claim the moral high ground there, anyway.

They agree to stay camped out in the tower until the situation resolves itself, puttering around in the lab for as long as Tony can stand it and then watching movies up in the penthouse.

Peter teaches Tony how to climb walls. Tony lets Peter put on the Iron Man suit, but only to walk around the lab. Peter, true to form, spends the time messing around in front of his reflection in one of the glass panels.

“Nice to meet you, Iron Man here.” He mimes reaching out to shake someone’s hand.

“Kid - ”

Peter retracts the faceplate, an expression of pure giddiness on his face that throws Tony for a loop. Tony doesn’t think he’s ever worn that expression on his own face.

“What? C’mon, this is like, a once in a lifetime opportunity. Ned would literally die to be in my place right now.”

Tony shudders at the thought. It was one thing for Peter to be in there - he was an Avenger, a member of the team, someone Tony trusted. He doesn’t want to think about how it would feel to let some random kid step into one of his suits, even if he was Peter’s close friend.

“You’re sure I can’t take it for just one loop around the building? You could follow me with the webbing!”

“For the last time, that’s not a good idea.”

Tony knows himself, and he knows Peter. It wouldn’t be just one lap. They’d end up trawling around the city, looking for trouble and probably finding it. Right now neither one of them is at full fighting strength; they’re just not familiar enough in each other’s bodies yet to be effective.

And if something were to happen -

Tony doesn’t want to think about that.

*

In the end, it takes two full days for the effects of the device to revert back. During that time, Tony asks May to call in sick to school for Peter, and Peter has to cancel all of Tony’s engagements.

One moment, they’re sitting in the lab, working on an upgrade for Peter’s suit. The next moment, well. They’re both still sitting in the lab, but back in their own bodies. Finally.

“Oh thank god,” Tony breathes.

Peter blows out a sigh of relief as well, peeling his hand off the table where it had been stuck for the last ten minutes, a fact that Tony had been doing his best to hide.

“Hey Pete, tell FRIDAY to enact protocol 3-9-5-B for me, would you? Confirmation code ‘resurrection’.”

Peter does without a second thought.

“Protocol 3-9-5-B confirmed. Welcome back, Mr. Stark.”

“Do you seriously have a protocol in place for every situation?”

“No, but I’m working on it. I added 395B yesterday.”

“But you had that 395 one already in place two days ago. You seriously anticipated something as random getting body swapped with me and needing to upgrade my security clearance?”

Tony honestly doesn’t know if it’s better to explain things or leave it alone. He hedges. “Not exactly.”

“So what other situation would require you to give me access to everything, and completely delete your own access at the same time? Like, if you went dark side or something?”

Well, there’s another situation Tony hadn’t considered yet that he can add to the list of things that keep him awake at night.

He clears his throat. He probably should’ve talked to the kid about this before now.

“Or if something happens and I’m not around any more to need it.”

Peter’s breath hitches. “Mr. Stark - ”

“Hey, it’s just a contingency plan, one of many.”

“But that’s - FRIDAY told Pepper I could sign off on company stuff! Your labs, all the Avengers stuff, I’m - I can’t...”

“Woah, try to breathe, Pete. It isn’t happening right now, okay? I’m still here.”

But Peter isn’t listening; he’s gasping for breath, eyes flicking around wildly.

Tony reaches out and pulls Peter into a tight hug. If there’s one thing he’s learned over the past two days, it was how easily Peter’s senses could become overwhelmed by physical sensations, and also apparently just how good Tony smelled to Peter’s supersenses. He hopes it’s enough.

Peter clutches at him, the panic gradually subsiding.

“You can’t _do_ that kind of stuff,” he says, his voice thick and muffled by Tony’s shirt.

“What, plan for the future?”

“No.” Peter pulls away just far enough to look Tony in the eyes. “Plan on dying like that.”

If it were anyone else in the world, Tony would remind them that dying was inevitable. That it was a part of life. But Peter knew that lesson all too well already.

“I wasn’t,” Tony says. “I won’t. Promise. I shouldn’t have said anything about it in the first place, I wasn’t trying to scare you. I just… thought you should know.”

Peter still looks shaken, but he nods.

“I get it, at least I think I do.” He swallows. “When Ben died we didn’t uh, we didn’t have a will or anything to go off of. It made things harder, not knowing what to do about the funeral and everything.”

Neither of them speak for a while. Tony’s memories of his own parents’ funeral were fuzzy at best, blurred by time and grief. But he knew that feeling; that directionless, anchorless feeling that came with the loss of a parent.

There’s probably more they should talk about, but it can wait.

Tony drags his fingers through Peter’s hair, because yeah, now he knows exactly how good that must feel, and he watches as Peter’s eyes flutter closed in response. That kind of knowledge is dangerous, and he plans to make full use of it in the future.

Peter’s brow furrows.

“I think I’m wearing your underwear,” he says.

“Yeah, you are.”  
  


 


End file.
